Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Afghanistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The United States of America to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fire Engines,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harpers Bizarre,
Con Funk Shun,
June Days,
Y Pants,
The Moody Blues,
Barry Ungar,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Surgeon,
Ronan,
Minnie Riperton,
Boogie Down Productions,
Yaz,
Susan Cadogan,
Eli Mardock,
Livin' Joy,
E-Dancer,
John Cale,
Monks,
Nik Kershaw,
John Holt,
Japan,
La Düsseldorf,
Youth Brigade,
Second Layer,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gang of Four,
Radiohead,
the Normal,
Oblivians,
The Mummies,
Vladislav Delay,
Faust,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bad Manners,
Visage,
The Motions,
Drive Like Jehu,
Laurel Aitken,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dual Sessions,
Sound Behaviour,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fela Kuti,
the Bar-Kays,
Deakin,
T. Rex,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jacob Miller,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gladiators,
Quantec,
Depeche Mode,
Sun City Girls,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.